Beastie: Torrential Agony of Tarrant the Agonized
by Helkh
Summary: What is a man to do when anything with a pulse is after him? Why, stab anything in his way. Unfortunately, this never seems to work, as Tarrant realizes. [Coldfire Trilogy]


**Beastie: The Torrential Agony of Tarrant the Agonized**  
Sliding Into the Grasp of Evil: What Tarrant Never Forgives  
_The Prologue_

  
  
**Night One:**

I am contemplating ritual suicide, for I will take Damien with me. The world would be more bearable for me and the entirety of Erna. Hesseth has suffered too long. Emotion: more reason to take my life. I'm beginning to get attatched to her, which generally means I won't actually stab her repeatedly in the neck with my blade. I'll stab Damien. So help me, I will.

Maybe I won't.

Just to spite the universe.

This night he decided to teach me to 'become a real man'. The horror of this will haunt me to my burning death. Hesseth hasn't looked me in the face since she walked in upon us right at the moment that smelly human was putting his hands in entirely inappropriate places and I was preoccupied with majestically drawing my sword. Damn thing got caught. Damien is still oozing slighty frozen blood.

I wish he would get on to the dying bit.

  
**Night Two:**

Karril will suffer. I really wish he didn't think himself so unutterably amusing. He seems to believe dropping past our happy little camp and making obscene illusions is appropriate for our Death Mission March. I don't do 'funny'. I do 'dead demon'.

He laughed at that and took it entirely the wrong way.

If I ever want to think about Calesta that way, I will willingly give myself to Grinning Nymph and Unpleasant Odor. Why does anything with a pulse go after me?

Shouldn't it be the other way around?

I swear Hesseth is grinning at me strangely when I turn my back.

  
**Night Three:**

I'm going to dig myself a hole and sleep with my sword in my hand, preferably crossed over my hips. Then they'll freeze their hands off if I don't wake up and kick them senseless.

  
**Night Four:**

Damn Karril and his nefarious teleportation habits! If this doesn't stop, I will..

Do something undignified. Like tear at my hair and scream.

Yet in the process be majestic. It just works like that.

  
**Night Five:**

I will cherish the moment when I'll gorge myself on their bodies so long I split in half.

Damien chose to tell me he wished to gorge on 'other things'. I chose to kick him off a cliff and 'accidentally' use the fae to start a rock slide. Managed to make it look like I also needed saving, though the idiot grabbed my bloody sword. He whined about it nearly sucking out his soul for nearly eight hours afterwards and only stopped because I had already started digging another hole. Honestly, I don't know what his problem is. Just because the beauty of his death probably wouldn't strike him as lovely, it doesn't mean I won't love the idea.

And if he's so damned bent on making me 'happy', he might as well die. It would save me the trouble, as he's not even worth the fae it would take to cook him from the inside out. Filthy human.

  
**Night Twelve:**

Have decided to lead those two depraved individuals into the clutches of the Undying Prince, even if he is a silly apprentice. After all, who could possibly have my power and beauty? I'm almost forgiving the morons I must socialize with for their maddened lust. Almost. I cannot forgive Damien for furtively tying me down in our first travels and attempting rape.

Instead, Coldfire raped his veins.

So ha.

  
**Night Thirteen:**

I suspect Damien has caught on to my plot to sell him to the enemy. Bloody hero-types. Has been making highly un-subtle speeches about having to kill the love of his life and the agony this will put him through, but he must do this deed to save the world from evil etc, etc. I have the feeling he'll try to feel me up while stabbing me in the heart with that crusty thing he calls a dagger.

If he tries to put me in a 'Princess' gown and 'save' me from the clutches of the Evil Doer, The Eldritch Prince Of Immortal Dhoom, I will cry.

And then kill any witnesses.

  
**Night Eighteen:**

Hesseth has fallen to her death. Am somewhat relieved, as I will no longer have claws snaking into my grave-bed when I'm trying to get a decent day's rest.

At least I won't get hideous rings under my eyes. Unless Damnation keeps groping me. Even Karril appears from time to time and disappears before I can backhand him for putting hands where they aren't wanted.

I really think suicide is a good idea.

  
**Night Twenty:**

The Prince wants me, too.

Do I want to know where that soul has been?

Yes, suicide sounds marvelous.

  
**Night Twenty-Two:**

That stinking bastard has come to do away with Evil. I swear that man is more pestilential than Amoril!

Had quite a bit of fun using volcanos and fire tonight. Got a little singed with the sunny nature of the place, but managed to make it look like I don't deserve to die because I wasn't really making attempts on the lives of millions. I was merely executing some elaborate plan to help Odorous vanquish darkness, even though I NEED IT TO LIVE AND I HATE LIGHT WARRIORS. I sold myself to Hell and murdered my children mainly to escape playing some ridiculus card game about dungeons and winged lizards with my eldest son. He wanted me to play a 'cleric', some sort of 'white mage' or a 'paladin'.

If he could see me now.

  
  



End file.
